*~ Hazel's POV ~*
I finally found an idea..one risky, desperate idea to signal my presence to whoever might still be searching for me. But I knew it would only work if Cyrius either stepped out or fell asleep. I had to wait. Timing was everything.
The deer meat was done, a bowl of it handed to me like I was some willing participant in this twisted little survival dance. I forced it down. Christian started crying again, his little whimpers slicing through the heavy silence of the hut. I dropped the bowl and rushed to him.
"He needs fresh air," Cyrius's voice rang behind me, calm but irritating. "The heat from the fire is getting to him."
I scoffed. "Why do you act like you know my children better than I do?"
But Christian kept crying..louder, harder. And then, as if on cue, Heather's soft whimper joined in, building into a wail. My eyes snapped to him, and there it was that devilish smirk that always made me want to slap the arrogance right off his stupidly beautiful face.
